Sunday, November 19, 2006

Machines to Save Our Lives. Machines Dehumanize.

Here is my friend A.'s son seen through his dad's sculpture.

I wasn't feeling 100 percent this weekend. I went out on Friday night and had my usual two beers and that was nice. Then most of Saturday I felt like shit and got another migraine. That's it. I'm going to start going to the chiropractor once a month again - it's so much better than getting a migraine every weekend. So, I spent most of today doing all the shit I should have done on Saturday, and now I'm just wiped. What that means for you, is that I'm moving the meme post from Jane's Calamity's blog from tonight until tomorrow and tonight I'm showing you some kick-ass art instead.

Here is A.'s husband, his beer, a bunch of people I don't know and his first robot sculpture.

To me, sculpture is like poetry - I don't know how to make it, but I appreciate very much what others do. For a while I lived and hung out on the Radillac Farm. Once I got past waking up and finding a bunch of metal sculptors staring at me through my kitchen window, I really got into the work that came out of the foundry there. So, when my friend A. showed me this first photo of her husband's robot, I was very excited. I especially love the outboard motor head. Her husband makes props for films in Texas, so this seems like such a natural extension of that.

The piece in front is called the "Supplicant Mailbox" which I think is the best title ever.

A.'s husband had his first show in Austin today and sold almost everything he made and has orders for more work. All I can say is, hurray! I love it when my friends not only make really cool art, but are able to sell it as well.

Okay, I will stop my gushing - on here, anyway. I will continue to gush in private, however.

This last photo was taken by A.'s six year old son. I think it's awesome too.

Now, I will go and clean my kitchen and wish that I could sculpt and write poetry.

9 comments:

I like to think (and the sooner the better!) of a cybernetic meadow where mammals and computers live together in mutually programming harmony like pure water touching clear sky.

I like to think (right now, please!) of a cybernetic forest filled with pines and electronics where deer stroll peacefully past computers as if they were flowers with spinning blossoms.

I like to think (it has to be!) of a cybernetic ecology where we are free of our labors and joined back to nature, returned to our mammal brothers and sisters, and all watched over by machines of loving grace.

Sorry to hear about your migraines. I, too, had a weekend full of migraines. Do you have certain triggers? Some people say that artificial food coloring causes them, but I know for me, it is just plain lack of Sunkist soda. Oh, and hormones. Hope your head is better.

the closing couplet really is the whole poem but i am glad that someone exposed me to brautigan during my youth... i recommend his daughter Ianthe's memoir...dont know the title offhand...and there is a tribute to brautigan by iowan W.P. Kinsella.

Mine are all about hormones. The older i get the less predictable they are. I have some good drugs that will wipe them out, but if I take them too often, they could also kill me. Most times, I'm willing to risk it.

AKelly,

Didn't you know your husband was a rock star? Pretty soon, you'll have robots all over your house.

Dex,

I read him a lot when I was around 20 and living in San Francisco. I should probably put him back on my ever-increasing list of writers to read.